No One's Fault
by Ichiruki8
Summary: If it keeps getting harder and harder for me to pull myself out of my ruts…will the day come soon…where I just can't? If so…without you here, what am I to do, with no one to show me the way out?


She sighs as she pulls out a case, worn from time and love. Rusty, battered, but still gleaming in the moonlight. She opens it to reveal 3 ribbons, 2 shiny and new, one old, and only half of what it should be. She chuckles slightly at the irony, that the ribbon that would be useless in any practical situation, is the one she favors most out of the set. The incomplete set.

Another sigh escapes her pale lips, visible in the crisp night air. She should be inside.

She reminisces, to a time where things were simpler. Easier. She mumbles to no one in particular, "If only you were still here." No one replies, and even though she expected it, she had hoped to hear his voice answering. Telling her, "I am here, I've always been here." It would reassure her, even though she knows it's a lie.

He hasn't been here, she thinks, not since she left. Does that make it her fault? Surely not.

It was destined to happen, he should've kept in touch. She could've kept in touch. She shakes her head viciously, tears escaping her eyes, it's not her fault. No, it can't be, not when she's at her worst? She's too shaken, too upset for it to be her fault.

She screams, now, frustrated and anguished, "Why? Why weren't you there for me? When I needed you!" Her cries fade into sobs as she stares at the tattered, half of a ribbon in her hands. Her tears stain it, but she only sobs harder.

"Why…" she whispers, sinking to the ground. Her thoughts wander, now, to memories.

Drew, she thinks. He tried once. But his roses, critique, and harsh comments weren't enough to snap her out of it in the end.

He tried, he was nice, yes, but in the end he was too frustrated. Where was the rival he had known? Gone, and he didn't know how to bring her back. He gave up, and she fell, slipped, even, farther away.

She shakes her head amidst the memories, it wasn't his fault, either. He didn't know.

He didn't know he could have saved her. Who could, if she didn't know she had to save herself? Her tears stung, now, freezing to her pale skin. She doesn't notice. She does, however, notice the large tv in the background. She feels an obligation, a pull of some sort.

She walks, and stares at the giant screen. She winces at the bright lights, wishing she had stayed behind to wallow. She laughs bitterly, her past self –her happy self- would be aghast, appalled to see her like this, in such a sorry state. The very thing her friends had steered her away from, the one thing she never wanted to be.

The one thing he had trained her never to become. A quitter. Not only that, she thinks, as more tears penetrate her eyelids, but a quitter who wants nothing more than to wallow in self pity.

She whispers, "Well, what else do I have?" And for the first time, she really can't think of anything.

Her glazed eyes scan the TV haphazardly, wondering why she felt the need to assault her eyes, when his face appears on the screen. Normally, her reaction would be delight, happiness. Tonight it is only hatred.

"You did this to me, traitor." She thinks, but she watches with interest anyway, because no matter how much she may "hate" him, she needs to know he's doing okay. She honestly fears why though, to be reassured, or to know that he's alright, so when she finally slips all the way, he'll know just what he did.

She cringes at her own thoughts, _When did it get this far?_

The announcer says he has won the Sinnoh League. Hatred and pride bubble together like acid in her stomach, fighting and making her feel sick. If he calls now, what will she do? What **can** she do?

She knows it will happen, it's inevitable. But she doesn't want to talk to him... why would she? Her insides- her heart-scream the opposite.

They swarm around inside her head, like the devil and angel on her shoulder.

For the first time, the angel is winning. _You want him. His voice, his reassurance. You need him. Without his memories you would already be gone._

She knows it's true, and this brings more tears. She's cried too much tonight. The one person who caused all this hurt, everything, about herself, about life, about him. Round about answers get you nowhere, she thinks. "I'm going nowhere."

Saying it aloud doesn't make it any less painful. Neither does the soothing ringtone protruding from her pocket make her heart beat less fast when she sees the name on the caller id. She waits. It's the last ring now, take it, or leave it? If she leaves it, what will she leave behind? Memories, friends…her life? Taking it, what will she gain? A voice, a broken heart?

She opts to take it, not a moment too soon, as the answerer immediately begins with, "Oh, good, I almost hung up, you sure took awhile!" She doesn't know what to say, his happiness…it warms her and sickens her at the same time.

_Your happiness is important, too_, her heart says, while her mind complains he doesn't deserve it when she is this miserable.

"I didn't see you at the Grand Festival, was I late, or…"

She plucks up a nerve, "You weren't late."

He pauses, hoping she'll elaborate, but it's clear she's not in the mood for talking. "So you didn't make it, then?" "No." The coldness in her voice astonishes him, and he wonders what happened to the May he knew.

She smiles a bit, knowing that giving up isn't in his vocabulary. Maybe she has a chance…if she gives him one, that is. Not even a second, this is more like a 5th chance. She doesn't say so, though, because she knows he'll make it funnier than it is. She doesn't want funny, she wants strength.

Can he do it? "I won, if you saw…I wanted to see how you were doing. Do you…wanna talk?"

And at this, the dam breaks.

She cries and cries, and he tries desperately to stop it.

_This would be so much easier in person! _He thinks, cringing at the sobs seeping through the phone. He video chats her so he can see her face, and she regrets accepting immediately.

"Oh god, are you okay? You look like you've been crying for hours!" She nods, sniffing, rubbing her face in a haphazard attempt to get warm. "Where are you? Is it below freezing? Talk to me!"

She frowns at his flurry of questions, and he backs off. She takes a deep breath, and spills.

"I'm in Johto, Goldenrod City. I have 2 ribbons, 8 losses, did not make it into the Grand Festival, the only Pokémon that still trusts my judgment is Blaziken, yes it is below freezing, and no, Ash Ketchum, no I am not okay."

She says it all in a rush, but does not regret it. In fact, she feels more free than she has since she left for Johto. He gapes, then yells about how he needs to come see her. She smiles at his childishness, chuckling at the irony that he was once her mentor. She hears him shout for Brock in the distance, screaming about boat tickets, times, and 'as-soon-as-possibles' and 'no-it-can't-wait-this-is-important's'.

She thinks back again, thinking excruciatingly hard. He comes back on screen, mumbles something about taking a night boat and seeing her in the morning, and then he's off, just like Ash.

The whole thing is just like him, really. Maybe…maybe she didn't really need him, earlier. Would that have made it worse? False confidence, only lasting for one performance before she realizes she never really had any at all? No.

She knows, the confidence is there, buried beneath defeat.

Yes, it will take him to drag it out again, but that's what he's there for. When she really, _truly_ needs him, he's there.

She smiles again, and it feels nice, and she breathes in the cold air deeply, after all, tomorrow she'll be sharing it with him. As she enters the Pokémon Center, she can't help but think... maybe it's no one's fault.


End file.
